Flames and Memories
by Lil' Quill
Summary: Fawkes reflects on why Albus Dumbledore was a broken man. Rated T for insinuations of rape.


**A/N: Round 4 of the QLFC! My animal prompt for this round is the phoenix.**

 **Optional Prompts (Chaser 2):**

 **1.(word) soul**

 **11.(dialogue) "Do you really need to do that?"**

 **15.(word) obliterate**

 **Sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

...

The world of wizards had changed very much in the past century, but the forest had not. Deep inside the forest, Fawkes made for himself a new home after the passing of Albus Dumbledore.

No, the _murder_ of Albus Dumbledore.

After a mournful Phoenix's Lament, Fawkes seemed to have vanished, never to be seen again. Fawkes had obliterated himself, bursting into flame countless times amongst these trees, reborn as a fledgling, yet he could never shake the feeling that he belonged on the perch in Albus Dumbledore's Hogwarts office. He was no longer bound to an owner, yet Fawkes, fiercely loyal, dearly missed Albus. Fawkes's tears could do nothing to resurrect the dead.

In truth, though Albus Dumbledore was wise and had his heart in the place, his old soul was not as kind as he was made out to be. After all, Dumbledore was truly more focused on defeating Voldemort than the sensitivities of others. Fawkes was there when Dumbledore sliced a new gash through the healing yet still painful wound of Lily Potter in Severus Snape's mind. Dumbledore carefully nurtured Harry Potter, not only out of love for the boy that he was too deluded to see, but to bring a better era to the Wizarding World.

Dumbledore never trusted love.

Fawkes knew that most of all.

…

(July 27, 1937)

Albus Dumbledore looked particularly tensed that evening, a sharp contrast with the brilliant sunset letting go of its last golden hues upon the shimmering lake. After Fawkes had appeared in this room with a brilliant burst of flame, Dumbledore had extinguished and repaired the papers on his desk which he had not had the thought to fireproof.

"Do you really need to do that?" Dumbledore inquired in some attempt at humor, but the smile never reached his haunted, troubled eyes.

He paced through his Hogwarts office, then, in a moment of anguish, reached for the stone bowl with the murky liquid. He pressed his wand to his temple, drawing out the silvery strands of liquid that one might mistake for old gray hair if not looking closely. The liquid fell into the Pensieve, swirling to life as the memory colored. Albus dove into the shallow bowl, leaving Fawkes, his mode of transportation, behind. The phoenix, currently handsome and golden, instead fluttered over to the side of the bowl and peered in.

Fawkes saw Albus Dumbledore - a young Albus Dumbledore, as hard to imagine as that may be - strolling next to another young man.

"Albus, think about it," the voice of the boy next to Albus whispered, his voice distant as the bottom of the Great Lake from Fawkes's perspective above the Pensieve. "We could be masters of death. You and I, we'd never die. As long as we heed the mistakes of those before us, we will be untouchable. No wizard would dare cross our paths."

"Nothing would cross our paths," Albus corrected gently. Even through the Pensieve, Fawkes could perceive Albus's tone, one that he had never heard before. It sounded affectionate, kind, closer than any friend.

"You and I, we could be heroes. There's nothing but a legend, I know. But it's a true legend. I can just sense it in my bones."

"What 'bone' nonsense is this, Gellert?" Albus joked lightly, tenderly.

"It's the same feeling I get when I pass that Muggle scum," Gellert spat.

"Not all Mug-"

But Albus drifted off as he saw the cobblestone path in front of him. Three burly boys around the age of Gellert and Albus walked towards the wizards, laughing raucously. As they passed, one of the boys muttered, "Freaks," sending the other boys into hushed whispers and steely glares.

Albus stood straight and rigid as a board, while Gellert simply regarded them with distaste. "Don't listen to them, Albus. You're better than them. You could twist their necks with only a few words right now if you wanted to."

"Say, is your sister as odd as you are? That why we never see her, eh?" one of the goons called. He made Fawkes's feathers ruffle in foreboding.

"I'll bet we could tell her a lot o' things and she wouldn' blab. We could do things with her, hear her screams, and nobody would even care."

Albus trembled with rage as he stormed over to the boys.

"You. Will. Not. Go. Near. Her," he uttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh yeah?" One of the boys, enormous and clad in a plain brown vest, leered eerily at Dumbledore. "Whatcha going to do to me?"

Fawkes saw a flash of Albus's arm as he reached for his wand, and judging my Gellert's position, both could sense what Albus was about to do.

"Albus," Gellert gave a short, breathy laugh of disbelief and appreciation.

Under Gellert's word, Albus's arm froze, and then he pushed his wand back in his pocket and drew back his arms. The smile melted off of Gellert's face like candle wax.

"Give them what they deserve," Gellert goaded. But Albus stood tall, taller than the boys.

"If you touch her, it will be the last thing you ever do with your chubby hands." With one last icily scathing look, Albus whirled around and walked to Gellert, his movements startlingly sharp.

The boys did not seem completely quelled, but they looked slightly subdued as they walked on. That is, they seemed to continue on and ignore Albus and Gellert until one of them, a lanky, grimy boy, called, "She's a freak! She's probably more freakish than you, which is why we don't see her!"

Gellert moved before Albus could. Discreetly pointing his wand and not saying a single word, Gellert looked smugly victorious.

Behind them, the boy who had opened his mouth was rasping, trying to force air down his lungs. It was a horrific sound, the boy scrabbling for his throat and giving the most sickening coughs Albus had ever heard. The other two boys crowded around their crony, forming a defensive wall as they ran away from Albus and Gellert, the cry, "Freak!" on their lips and fear sucking the light from their eyes.

Albus and Gellert walked in silence for what felt like the longest stretch of time until Albus, his voice trembling with suppressed rage, stated, "You were right. Muggles are scum."

Gellert clenched his jaw. "You don't need their toxic hatred in you life."

Young Albus Dumbledore looked at Gellert Grindelwald, something meaningful glowing in his eyes. "You know I trust you with my life. You are my closest confidant. I love you."

"And I love you too, Albus. You are closer than a brother. I will forever trust you and cherish this bond. I will always love you, Albus Dumbledore, and that is my vow to you."

The memory megan to cloud over, and Fawkes returned to his perch. Albus, with a long, silvery-gray beard now, emerged from the Pensieve. He looked deeply perturbed.

And then Fawkes truly understood.

Gellert Grindelwald had become a dark, terrifying, evil wizard. Albus Dumbledore had defeated him.

But Albus Dumbledore had loved Gellert Grindelwald once.

And Albus Dumbledore could never love again.

"Come, Fawkes, let us depart from here. What use is the Headmaster's Office when there is no school?" Dumbledore cracks a watery smile.

And from that moment forward, Fawkes vows to be the closest friend to Albus Dumbledore that was possible. Fawkes vowed to never stop serving the man before him until the day that man perished.

Unlike Grindelwald's vow, however, Fawkes never broke his.

…

 **A/N: Annnd scene! I had fun with this one, and I'd love to hear your feedback, including constructive criticism! Review, PM, favorite, whatever you wish.**

 **Ink on!**

 **Lil' Quill**


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